Fast Five: The Prelude
by Spiked Reyndrop
Summary: The road trip from California to Rio is a long one. Due to certain circumstances, Dom gets himself a road trip companion, for the journey. Alternate Universe, between F&F and F5. Dom/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Fast and the Furious.

**Rating: **Strong T

**Pairing: **Dom/OC

**Warning(s): **Alternate Universe,Liberties with timelines and events before Fast 5.

**A/N: **I was looking through my Documents and found this story, and thought I would share. It was my first ever attempt at the Fast and the Furious franchise. It is what it is, but I hope you like it all the same. It will be go for a total of 5 chapters. For those following **Fast and the Furious: Insider**, I'm ironing out the next chapter and it should be posted sometime next week. Here we go …

**|One|**

As always Han had a dark pair of sunglasses shielding his eyes from the sun, lounging lazily against his car munching away at a bag of chips. Tego and Rico as usually were clowning around in the background.

"'Sup Dom," Han greeted, pushing of the car in a sedated pace greeting his guy appropriately. "You're late."

Dom smirked, "traffic." If there was one thing that didn't stop a racer it was traffic, so it was a flimsy excuse at best. Truth was he'd left the town later than he planned cause of some cop trouble, but he'd made great time for a 3 hour lag.

"Amateur," the Asian teased good-naturedly, leading the brawny racer and two Latino males into the hotel for their pre-heist briefing/meeting.

As soon as Han briefed them on the extra party on this particular job, he knew he wasn't going to like it. More people, meant more people he needed to watch out for incase of a double cross which distracted him from the job at hand, "Han seriously, an extra?"

"Not ideal, I know, but it's her heist and still pays major bucks that will be keeping us clean for a while yet," He wasn't oblivious to the fact that Dom hated working outside the group, devils he knows and all that jazz. But mostly, if he had to take a wild guess, he'd say it was Letty. His dead girl played with devils she didn't know, and ended up dead for it.

"Afraid we'll stiff them if we go alone?" Dom asked, wondering why this one insisted on coming.

Han opened his mouth for further convincing, but a distinctive female voice is the one that answered. "Because I like being where the action is," the owner, a raven haired woman, was leaning up against the door frame assessing the scene.

"Fuego mami, fuego," Rico commented not even subtle about his eyes raking the woman's body.

Nothing she was wearing was glaringly seductive, well except for the short shorts that left entirely too much leg out to be legal, at least those legs that seemed to go on forever. As for her upper body it remained coved by a white tank top and an army green over shirt. Full lips, light drizzle of freckles across her nose, hazel-grey eyes and silken wavy locks. Like Dominic said, pretty but he could smell trouble coming off her from a mile away. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Why cause I'm a woman?" she demanded, pushing of the wall and joining the two ring leaders at the table, eyebrow raised at Dom in challenge of his statement. "I'm the one who scouted this job; think I'd be here if I couldn't handle it."

He scoffed, leaning forward arms crossed and resting on the table, not cowering from her stare. "Looking for hired drivers says you can't handle it." It was bad enough Han got them a job working with someone else, but working with a girl who was probably jonesing for some sort of adrenaline kick was even worse.

"Just means I needed extra drivers to pull it off," she countered, not backing down like he'd expected. "I could say that 'If you don't want the job, I can find others', but facts are the window is closing and, I don't have the time to search for replacements. I'm not ashamed to admit that I need other drivers or this job doesn't happen." She told him frank not one to beat about the bush. The others were on board or could be on board with the right persuasion, the one that needed convincing was the bald headed, brawny racer trying to get her to back down with a staring match. Something that would have worked if she wasn't so desperate for the money, "Tell me something, are you willing to walk away from 1.5 because you don't want to work with me?"

"No offense, but when I'm doing something illegal I don't like looking over my shoulder to check if I'm being stabbed in the back."

She smirked, "there four guys in this room and one girl, tell me –shouldn't I be the one worried about getting quadruple-y screwed over? We can go over the plans if you like and square out the details now so there are no misunderstandings down the road." He regarded her for a minute, before conceding with a nod. "The split of the bounty, I say we do it even; All of us walking way with 300 grand since we're all taking similar risks."

As much as it sounded diplomatic, he was still unconvinced by her. "What, no finder's fee?"

"If I wanted to be greedy I would have tried going it alone," she shrugged. "I don't need 1.5, 300 grand is more than enough. Unless you're the one with the problem with the proportions split."

"5 way even is fine with me," wondering when the other shoe would drop, it was bound to happen. "Let's go over strategy."

-~*+*~-:-**o**-:-~*+*~-

The job went off with a few hitches, but it was expected with a high speed heist on a back road. For all his reservation about her, Santana –as the woman chose to be named –was a pretty decent driver, keeping up with them when needed. Even when he thought she'd screw them over, because lord knew it had happened to him and the rest one too many times, she'd taken her cut then split.

His options on where to go were limited, but 300 grand would get him far in Southern America especially countries without extradition law until he knew what to do next. He still hadn't heard from O'Conner and Mia, hopefully no news was good news. The only good thing about his current situation was he had miles of road and his Dodge Charger.

Just when he was going to step on the gas, a girl came running onto the road and it was only his quick reflexes that prevented him from running her over. The force of him hitting the breaks so abruptly had him jerking forward, as a screech filled the air. The woman was still standing there, palms on the hood trying to catch a breath. And since this was his life and never easy, his eyes met the familiar face of Santana who looked something between shocked and scared. But it quickly dissipated, when a few male voices called after her and she set off running down the road once again, followed by her pursuers wielding crude weapons. If he had to make an obvious observation, he'd say that she was in over her head and her 'friends' were looking to hurt her for it. The smart thing to do was continue driving and not get involved, but he just couldn't. Likelihood of him driving away without a backward glance would be her dead worst case scenario, and as selfish as it was he couldn't have that on his conscious.

Drifting to face the way he came, he went after her. Hopefully she wasn't dead when he got to her.

. . .

Part of her had known the pay-off wouldn't work, but the stupid part of her hoped the guy had a shred of decency. Then again when did a thug ever have a shred of decency? Now she was still carless, 150 thousand short and running for her life. One of her other stupid idea's was to sock Santos in the mouth for double crossing her, hence the lynch mob for making their precious leader bleed. Only consolation was that she'd gotten a pretty good punch in, but not much of a consolation if she was going to be beaten to death by a group of his minions.

One of them had just managed to get a grab on her, when a familiar black 1970 Dodge Charger came racing down the street, drifting swiftly knocking some of her pursuers to the ground and giving her enough of a distraction to get a jump on her captor. She expected Dom to drive away and leave her to her own devices once again, but instead the passenger door opened for her. "Get in!" The baritone she'd come to know in the last few days distinctively ordered. As much as her stubborn side wanted to ignore it and set off on her own, the self-preservative side won over and she slide into the car beside him. She barely had her foot inside before he began down the road again.

"You okay?" Dom asked, not looking at her but the road ahead.

Taking in a deep breath, Santana couldn't help glance at the rear view mirror and side mirror to ensure there was no pursuit from Santo's men. It was highly unlikely they could catch up with the pace Dominic was moving at, but her over-cautious side couldn't help make sure of it. "Just dandy," finally letting herself relax into the leather seat, after gaining confirmation of no pursuing headlight following them. "Thanks for the save."

"Where do you want to go?" Dom asked, stealing a glance her way watching her relax completely into the seat. Most women, people for that matter, would be weary around him. Especially being alone in a car with him, but she seemed more calm than anything in his presence. If he had to take a guess he'd say it was immensely better to be in his presence than being in thugs' clutches.

-~*+*~-:-**o**-:-~*+*~-

Unlike many women it took her few minutes to get ready, something that was required in the career she'd chosen he guessed. Fast dispersion skills in case things went sour, emphasized by the duffle bag slung over her shoulder when she reappeared from her motel room. Before she'd gone to pack, she'd stopped over at the office probably paying for her stay, if he assumed correctly. Another thing he could note was the hesitance in her walk as she made her way to him once again. He could have followed common sense and gotten out of dodge before she came back, but there he was still leaning against his car waiting for her. It was likely she was dreading any conversation between them, but she approached him anyway.

"You didn't have to wait," she informed him, adjusting the bags strap on her shoulder shifting uncertainly from foot to foot. He'd already done enough by bringing her to the motel when Santo had eyes everywhere and he'd likely be dragged into her problems in the process, yet he was still there waiting for her.

Dom nodded, not really knowing what to say to that. "What's your plan?" he asked, knowing she needed an exit strategy before the boys from before caught up with her.

"I'm fine," she breathed as convincingly as she could muster, unable to lower her pride further to ask for help. Throughout the job they'd done together, he'd deemed her more of a necessary liability than partner and there was no way she would be making herself more of a nuisance to him than she already was. Besides, she'd figure it out. She always did.

He raised an eyebrow, "that's not what I asked," he corrected easily, knowing she was avoiding answering because it was likely she had none. If anything, her aim at the moment was to run and see where it led. "Do you have a place to go? 'Cause I'm pretty sure your friends back there will be gunning for a repeat performance, this time with successful results."

"I'll figure it out," raising her chin in defiance, even adding a nonchalant shrug of the shoulder to show she wasn't the least bit worried about her next move. A far cry from the truth, but he didn't need to know that, did he?

She was about to walk past him, when he spoke again. "You don't have a car."

"There are buses, I'll get by but thanks for your concern," she threw over her shoulder, once again adjusting the shoulder strap and setting off into the dark.

He sniggered, figured the girl would be stubborn, refusing to ask for help or accepting until he asked point blank. To be honest, he had half the mind to let her go with her pride, having enough problems to deal with already; he didn't need a girl as one, especially one so prideful. But that nagging side insisted on helping her even if it was likely to cause a headache. He just couldn't, for the life of him, let her lead herself into death.

A part of her was pleasantly surprised when once again, the 1970 Dodge Charger pulled up beside her with the passenger side door open in invitation. "Get in."

"Is that an order?" she returned with a raised eyebrow, refusing to comply when he was being so damn forceful. She didn't get ordered around, but maybe she'd consider if he asked her, nicely.

"I'm heading out of town, and can take you so your buddies won't catch you," he told her not asking her, but suggesting. It was up to her alone whether or not she agreed to it or not. "The offer isn't going to be there a minute from now, so what's it going to be? Keep your pride and die, or accept my offer and be safe?"

She regarded him for a moment and reassessed her options. Santos didn't know where she stayed, because she moved hotels regularly so he wouldn't catch on, but it was likely since her little punch he was searching more than ever and would find her eventually. So sacrificing her pride with a drawn out sigh, she slid into the passenger seat beside him once again.

To his credit, he didn't look the least bit smug, nor did he look like he had a million 'I told you so's on his tongue. He just kept his mouth shut and drove.

**TBC**

_Reviews would be lovely, helps me know what you think. Constructive Criticisms is welcomed, because it helps me improve. Flames __…__"__to each, his own__"__._


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Fast and the Furious.

**Rating: **Strong T

**Warnings: **None really.

**A/N: **Thank you for reading, reviewing, adding this to your alerts and favorites.

**|Two|**

Santana woke up with a start, knowing her over-sleeping might have gotten her screwed over. Passing urgent eyes around the room, she was surprised to find everything as it was the night before. Her duffle bag was still sitting on the chair next to the desk. So were her clothes, folded as she had done the previous night on the desk. Her unlikely travelling partner was sitting on the couch comfortably eating an apple pouring over maps, undisturbed by his surroundings. "Morning sunshine," he offered, after swallowing his bite. It was her untrusting nature that expected to wake up and find him and her money gone, leaving her stranded with a motel bill she couldn't pay. But he'd proved her wrong, with his presence. God, would she ever be able to figure the guy out, he was a walking contradiction most of the time.

"What time is it?" she managed to ask, through a yawn hoping her nonchalance covered her suspicion fuelled panic a few moments prior.

"10:30," he answered, once again not sparing a glance in her direction, full attention remaining on the map and nothing else. "We roll out in an hour, unless you've figured out your next move."

Figured out her next move, she'd just woken up! On average she needed about an hour to fully wake up, and she hadn't had her hour yet, or her brain wouldn't function well enough to figure anything out. With another yawn escaping her, she got out of bed stretching out her muscle and notably Torreto didn't sneak a peek. The guy had to be made of steel or something.

"You can count it if you want, just to make sure," Dom told her finally looking up from the maps to catch her discretely checking her bag for missing items. As much as he wanted to take offense, facts were facts in this scenario. He was a stranger with unknown intentions; why not think he'd taken a couple of bucks from her. A part of him knew he'd woken up at the ass crack of dawn to make sure she hadn't made off with his keys and money while he slept, only to find her still in the only bed of the room deep asleep.

Even if all the bundles were there, she still took the bag into the bathroom. Her excuse if he pointed it out was a change of clothes.

-~*+*~-:-**o**-:-~*+*~-

They were three towns out and Santana was no closer to making a decision about her final destination. Going back to New York was an option, all it took was a call and a plane ride, yet she was still in Dom's passenger seat with ear phones in her ear and iPod turned up. As road trip partners they seemed to get along well enough, he had the radio she had her iPod. They mostly split expenses, or rather she bulldozed her way in to paying most of the time seeing as he had urges to be a gentleman and paid always. She didn't handle charity very well and he was already doing enough letting her come along on his 'great road trip to wherever', helping with food, accommodation and gas money was the least she could do.

He'd expected her to be a royal pain in the ass, but she was rather tolerable if you discounted the fact that she had ridiculous amounts of pride and was stubborn as all hell. Other than those disturbing qualities, she kept the annoyance to a minimum. Always leaving him the stereo while she settled for her iPod, keeping her showers short and keeping the talking to minimum. He wasn't antisocial just intolerable to incessant jabber that some girls thought was necessary. Santana seemed to understand his no talking policy and complied, only talking about impersonal topics like cars and music nothing beyond that.

"Look we can share the bed, you don't have to sleep on the floor Torreto," miffed that the guy wanted to sleep on the floor, when he'd paid for the room and there was a perfectly big bed they could share. They were both adults, and as much of a cliché as it was, they could share a bed without going beyond sleep. "I promise not to steal your virtue if that's what you are afraid of," she teased, hoping she could get him to comply. All she got the slightest tug of his lips, before the neutral façade fell in place.

"I'm fine with the floor or the couch," he insisted.

"Is it the sharing that's the problem, because I can take the floor?" She asked confused by his continued refusal. "Come on Torreto, have you seen you. That couch can barely fit you, and the floor … you're driving tomorrow. I have no problem with sharing."

He raised an eyebrow, still skeptical about the proposal. The two of them in one bed was unethical. The only time he shared a bed with a woman was when he planned on doing more than sleeping with them. Sleep for sleep sake just couldn't sit well in his mind as a viable possibility.

"So what will it be?" She asked when he remained silent for a long while. "Be stubborn and end up with back pain and neck strains, or accept my proposal and get a good night's rest," challenging him with a raised eyebrow of her own.

-~*+*~-:-**o**-:-~*+*~-

As promised the other night, she'd remained on her own side of the bed not venturing a foot toward his side. Sure the proximity had been decreased a bit during the night, but other than that there was absolutely no contact between them. They didn't need to be on the road so early, so letting her sleep a while longer wouldn't hurt. He was making good time, now that he knew Mia and Brian were making their way to Brazil as planned to meet Vince.

As for his unplanned travelling companion, if she didn't make up her mind soon she'd be along for the ride as well, until they got to Rio. From there she would have no choice, but to make up her indecisive mind about her next step. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stretched out working the kinks out of his back. Dom had to admit that Santana had a point about sleeping on a bed, sleeping on cots and couches did nothing on the strain on his muscles with the long drive ahead, the soft mattress, even if it was a little lumpy provided a good night's rest.

His hand couldn't help go to the cross around his neck, while he watched the sun rise further into sky._ Letty_, he still thought of her every morning he woke and every time he went to sleep only taking off the silver medallion when he took a shower. The 'shoulda, coulda, woulda', running in his mind every time. It wasn't healthy he knew, but he just couldn't let her go, his mind refused to relent.

"Morning," Santana's sleep hoarse voice, broke through his thoughts acknowledging him to the fact that she was awake.

There was a pretty heavy story behind the silver cross that he scarcely removed from around his neck. Only sometimes did he take it off before he slept, but most times it remained around his neck as a silent statement. Even now as he looked outside the window, distant as ever, his fingers toyed with the large cross deep in thought about something. She could have made her arousal from sleep known earlier on, but she couldn't resist watching him in his current state, open and raw with emotion, things he usually stemmed down deep from the surface. Her head might have remained on the pillow, and her breath evened out to feign sleep, but her eyes were wide open, watching the facial profile of the brawny racer.

She had to admit that as much as his attitude usually stunk, he made it look good. His size and stature exuded power, a familiar trait to the 1970 Dodge Charger he drove. If she was being completely honest with herself, she'd have to say he was one hell of a hunk. Handsome, in the 'constant trouble maker' way with the size of a line backer, curved and sculpted in to defined muscles. Mostly what got to her, was the arms, she definitely liked the arms. But Santana was a sane and practical person and looked knowing she could do only that, touching well she'd rather touch a porcupine than him. Not because he wasn't attractive, it was already firmly established that he was… it was the personality clash. Beyond mere necessity, she had nothing but tolerance for him. Again, it was nothing against him just crappy circumstances.

One thing was for sure, he wasn't such a bad thing to wake up to. Taking her time, and stretching out like a lazy cat, she faked a yawn to give the act of just waking up, even if she'd been awake for a while yet.

"Isn't it too early for you?" He asked, turning his back on the scenery, leaning against the wall to regard her. It wasn't oblivious to him that she was in fact a rather beautiful woman. There in the morning light with dark brown tresses mussed and barely held together by the band she'd tied them with, pouty lips pulled into a lazy smile. If he let his eyes travel further, he'd spy the slightest hint of cleavage peaking from her tank top she chose to sleep in. Yes, she was pretty, but her undesirable traits over shadowed that on most occasion. She wasn't annoying, that wasn't the right word, stubborn, proud and a rebel-without-a-cause, were more fitting labels for the brunette. Perhaps, if he were being honest he would say that she managed to get under his skin like nothing else, and that was by mere presence alone.

She smiled her lazy smile, "Oh Torreto, don't presume to know me, it will only give you an aneurysm," her tone teasing, as she pushed away the sheets, running fingers through her hair. "But you're right it's kind of early. When are we hitting the road?"

"Not for a while," Torreto managed a smile, under the onslaught of smartass barbs coming from her mouth. "Don't worry I won't presume to know anything about you."

She smirked, "smart man," pulling out her toiletry bag, underwear and a change of clothes. She had long gotten over her fear of him making away with her money while in the shower, enough to leave hear bag in the room with him. He maybe a thief, but a low down double-crosser he was not –many vices, but still some good in that big old heart of his.

All he could do was watch her saunter out of the room, in her too short shorts and tank top that ended inches above the waist band with an unconscious smile on his face. Yes, he admitted what he felt toward her wasn't annoyance; she just seemed to get under his skin.

-~*+*~-:-**o**-:-~*+*~-

Unfortunately for them, a flash flood made the road they were to use inaccessible meaning they would have to spend another night in the motel room with one bed and town they should have left hours ago. Unable to be still for five seconds in the room Santana had somehow managed to convince him to venture out and try the small town club playing Reggaton music loudly. Not his kind of place, at least not when he wanted to relax and ease his mind, but he had to admit a beer didn't sound too bad at the moment.

Santana's Spanish was passable, and got him a corona no problem. For herself, she settled for an energy drink, like the woman needed any more energy pumping in her veins, but he guessed it was a better substitute for a drunk-Santana Carreon. If there was something he would hate to see, it would be a drunk-Santana.

To work off the excess energy buzzing through her body, she got on the dance floor causing quite the stir with the men, competing and holding her own with the local woman. Many men approached like a moth to a flame, but one wink in his direction had them reconsidering their intentions.

When one of her many admirers got too close and got handsy, he almost rolled his eyes because he was already on his feet to neutralize the situation before it escalated. Grabbing her around the waist and pulling her closer with a deadly glare promising bodily harm if he didn't back off at the guy, was all it took for the man to walk away with his tail between his legs. "Why am I not surprised you attract trouble," he breathed into her ear, waiting for her to calm before he let her go. Facts were the girl was a bit of a hot head and her throwing a punches would likely cause him more trouble than he needed, especially now that they were stranded for the night with no way of getting out of town if need be.

"Because otherwise you wouldn't have a damsel to save and that would make you such a dull boy," she returned in her usual tone, her quick breathing regulating and muscles relaxing as she calmed down. "You can let go big boy, I promise I won't be throwing punches."

"No more dancing," he told her in no uncertain term, easily swing her around and leading her back to their table, where she was less likely to draw more attention than they needed.

As much as she grumbled about him being a spoiler spot, she complied to his request, and sat down at their table ordering a soda, that may give her a sugar high but was much better than a highly caffeinated Santana. For a while he was contented with the silence, with nothing but the blaring music that had significantly reduced in volume throughout the night, and was now a mere soft thump to provide ambiance. But as always, Santana had to open that pretty pouty mouth of hers and disrupt his content, because god-forbid she let him recluse into himself for a moment or two.

"May I ask you a question?" Santana asked, fixing him with a determined stare tired of the silence, bored with the situation and needing to know answers on a few things. When he opened his mouth to decline, she rushed on. "It's nothing personal, like if you have a wife who'd put me six feet under if she ever found out I shared a bed with her husband."

Despite fighting it, a small smile tugged at his lips. It never ceased to amaze him some of the things that poured out of that mouth. "Do I look married?" he asked, his curiosity peaked even leaning on the table to hear more.

"With a face and body like that, not forgetting that lovely _sunny_ disposition of yours it's easy to assume so," she explained, taking a sip of her soda. "So I'm I likely to be dead before I hit the ground when we reach the end of this rope."

He'd already readied himself for her staying the long haul to Brazil, so it wasn't such a shock that she finally admitted to it out loud. "And this didn't cross your mind when you were making deals to get me in bed with you last night?" raising an eyebrow in challenge, interested to see how she'd dig herself from her own grave.

"I wasn't thinking, it was late and I was only thinking about safety on our journey," she bull shitted, with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders, "but, trying to distract me, Toretto, won't work. Can I ask my question now? You can even ask one of your own."

"Even if I say no, you'll ask anyway so what is it?"

She took a few moments of silence, "Why did you come back?"

"Come back where?"

"Come back for me," she clarified. "Let's face it; if there was something of inconvenience, nuisance and plain annoyance of our little job for you, it was me. You couldn't stand me, probably still don't and you came back to get me even though you didn't need that kind of trouble… why did you do it?"

"Are you complaining?" Dom asked, deflecting for a moment to gather his thoughts. It was true, he'd seen her as a hindrance on the job, and going back for her would attract trouble of the unknown type, yet he went back. He would have preferred personal at least he could pull the no comment then.

She shook her head easily, swallowing her drink of soda. "No, I'm grateful you came back. But, I'm curious as to why you did it. What was chasing me would have got you more trouble than I'm worth, so why risk relative peace to go back for a woman who was comparable to being the bane of your existence."

"I couldn't drive away," he answered after a long pause, holding her eye steady not looking away. "Sure it would have been easier to pretend I didn't see you and drive on, would mean less trouble but I couldn't have your death on my conscious when I know I could have done something to prevent it."

She furrowed her eyebrows, "so it was to ease a possible guilty conscious?"

Answering that would give her a false view of things, so he let her think whatever she wanted. "I can ask my own right?"

"Deal's a deal."

"What trouble were you running from?"

She chuckled, "straight to the point. You don't take any prisoners do you Dom?" He remained unmoved awaiting an answer. Why did he ask that of all things? Licking her suddenly dry lips and biting her bottom lip she raked her mind for an appropriate answer. "The night I got into that town, a thug took a liking to me, but I turned him down royally," she narrated, stopping to take a drink of her soda. "So, while I slept the bastard had some of his friends steal my car? I know most would say it's a car, but it was my car. The last thing my dad left me –sentimental value and crap." She dismissed with a wave when it was clear it meant something to her. "1970 Nova SS, black with an engine that purred like a jungle car." If she were being honest, she'd always thought it was the most beautiful machine she'd ever seen growing up. Still thought of it that way, but that wasn't something Dom needed to or cared to know. "Anyway, I figured out he did it and went to confront him, offered to pay him to get it back. I eventually managed to talk him down from two nights in his bed, to 150 grand cash for the car, hence our meeting." At that she let a lopsided smile pull at her lips, "I gathered the 150 thousand and went to him. And before you call stupid on the move to comply, I wasn't thinking about anything but getting my car back, hell or high water. Gave him the 150, but Santos had plans of his own that involved keeping the car, getting me into his bed complacently or otherwise and 150 grand. So I fought back, socked him in the mouth and ran, and since I'd injured their precious leader, his minions were out for my blood. And here we are."

It now made sense why she was willing to split the 1.5 million five ways, because she only needed 150 thousand. "So your first job," finally working out everything that felt wrong about the job.

"Okay fine, I lied about being on a job before then," She sighed, knowing she was caught in her lie and the way he was looking, he was not at all impressed by her subterfuge. "And you're pissed about the lie."

He wasn't mad at the lie, but he was mad at the fact she put herself and him in jeopardy by doing it. Rookies on a job were subject to mistakes that were bound to get them in trouble. "If you made a mistake then it would have been all our asses on the line, not just yours. Want to ask me that again?"

"But I didn't mess up," she defended, but he just sniggered. "Fine, I'm sorry I put you in that situation Dom. You had a right to all information and I kept it from you, I'm big enough to admit when I'm at fault. I was just running out of time, but I am sorry I lied to you."

Dom wanted to remain angry, but she was being completely open and honest with him which he couldn't help but appreciate. The reason he'd had so much distrust toward her during the job, it was because it was all in those hazel-grey orbs that she wasn't telling them everything or was hiding something. But now as his brown eyes pierced those same orbs, he could see nothing that indicated bluffing on her part. "Anything else I should know?"

"All my dirty, might-get-us-killed laundry is out in the open now, I'm not hiding anything except the secrets and none-of-your business information all of us have," she assured him, hoping he wouldn't dump her ass for lying.

He cracked a small smile, "Fine by me."

"Since you've banned me from the dance floor, for quote unquote attracting trouble, why don't you answer me one question."

"I thought the first question was the last."

"It only fair, you asked me two and the last one wasn't free," she contradicted easily, "So, why a 1970 Dodge Charger? I figured it as muscle for well… muscle, but I don't like assuming so what's up?"

"I thought we already had this conversation," remembering a seemingly similar conversation a few towns back.

"No, it was on Chevy's over Dodge's," she reminded him, elbows on the table leaning forward completely focused on getting information. "So, spill."

It was personal, but not as personal as she could get with her questions. So he opted to answer her, "I never said anything against Chevy's. As for the Dodge Charger, my father owned one and it was the first car that really drew me in."

"There's nothing like American muscle," she agreed, remembering her own father working on the Camero and teaching her all he knew about engines, and classics. "But no matter what, a Chevy's purr will always sound sexier than a Dodge's roar."

"What did a Dodge ever do to you?" He asked, happy with the tone of conversation; happy that she didn't try reveling further into his personal business.

She waved her hand in dismissal, "Nothing. I just like my Chevy's that have that muscular and powerful thing going, with a subtle sex appeal and heart that draws males and females. Dodge's are 'men's cars no questions asked."

"Heart?"

Rolling her eyes, "yes heart, Toretto," she repeated, enticing a small laugh from him.

**TBC**

**A/N: **Three more chapters to go. As always…

_Reviews would be lovely, helps me know what you think. Constructive Criticisms is welcomed, because it helps me improve. Flames __…__"__to each, his own__"__._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Fast and the Furious.

**Rating: **Strong T

**Warnings: **None really.

**A/N:** Thank you for reading, reviewing, adding this to your alerts and favorites.

**|Three|**

Despite being a little grumpy at the earlier hour they had to set out on, Santana wasn't complaining, resigning herself to catch the missing hours of sleep in the passenger seat as Dom cruised down the highway. After their talk the night before, or rather her questions and his own they had headed back to the motel, Santana hitting the sack almost immediately completely wiped out, while he made a call down south to make sure things were going as planned and Mia and Brian were in Brazil. They'd be there a week tops, so things were on track. By the time he hit the mattress, he was exhausted enough to fall right to sleep only to be woken by the annoying ring of his phone's alarm.

With the smallness of the town and the barely their tourist spots the little motel they'd managed to find only provided cold water that woke him right up. Santana though, wasn't all that enthralled by taking a shower with cold water, but persevered through it cursing every once in a while with words that had no right coming out of that pouty mouth of hers –not that it didn't serve as his morning entertainment.

"You know we wouldn't be taking all these breaks if you let me drive once in a while," Santana told him, when they pulled up to another motel that would serve as their resting place for the night. It wasn't the first time she suggested it, so she wasn't surprised by the automatic answer that came next.

"Not going to happen, Carreon," his answer the same as always, grabbing her duffle bag from the trunk with his own, he headed toward the office to rent a room for the night. Hopefully this time they would have a room with two beds instead of one. Technically getting two rooms would have been ideal, but practically being in one room was better and cheaper to their limited budget.

"It was just a suggestion," following him toward the office.

As if his life wasn't interesting enough the motel was owned by an elderly woman, who was highly religious and would not, under any circumstances, hand over keys to a room unless Santana and he were married. Worst still it was the only place in the town, but the brunette surprised him by playing up the role of a doting wife, slipping an arm through his and explaining they were married. Of course the old woman with eyesight sharper than ever, noticed the lack of rings on both their fingers and pointed it out, her eyes full of mistrust and suspicion. But calling the woman's bluff, Santana quickly pulled out a chain that permanently hung round her neck and displayed two silver rings identical in design as well as a much more bejeweled diamond ring hanging from the silver string, lying through her teeth about having car trouble and him having to take off his ring so not to ruin it.

He'd thought he'd known quite a few things about the brunette, but it seemed he hadn't even grazed the surface of knowing who she really was. The night before she was joking about him being married all the while the one who was clearly married, or had been, was her. After another lie told in Spanish, the elderly woman handed over the keys wishing them a pleasant honeymoon. The girl could lie, maybe to him not so much 'cause he could tell when she was bull shitting him, but she had that woman eating every word.

"Is your husband someone I should worry about?" He asked point blank to her back as they lay in bed, lights finally off after the longest stretch of silence that had ever existed between them began wearing thin. The stiffening of her shoulders was obvious, meaning she was either going to lie or deny. And with her back to him, he wouldn't be able to tell.

She knew breaking out the rings would lead to questions she wasn't ready or willing to answer, but Santana had to commend him on holding out as long as he did, because if roles were reversed she would have been on him like a blood hound the minute they were out of ear shot. "No," it was the truth, however he wanted to take it was up to him. In his eyes they were probably a thousand and one theories about her marriage, one probably her being a flighty wife who couldn't hack marriage, bailed and was now sharing a bed with a man she barely knew, flirting with him every once in a while. It was none of his business anyway, he'd chosen to help her no questions asked prying wasn't in the deal and she wasn't going to cave because he asked.

It was the next day, while driving in a strained silence opposed to their usual compatible silence that she addressed the issue again. "I won't talk about him, like you won't talk about her," she told him simply, not taking her eyes off the scenery.

If he wasn't so cool, he would have shown more of an outward reaction than his hands tightening on the steering wheel and jaw clenching slightly, "What?" he inquired, in his most controlled and nonchalant tone.

"The cross hanging around your neck," she pointed out, knowing there was some heavy story behind the jewelry that he didn't care to talk about, and she didn't want to talk about her rings. "I'm okay with silence, but this strained, awkward silence thing we got going on right now isn't doing it for me. I don't want to talk about it, and just like you don't want to talk about her or… him for that matter." She was throwing him a bone hoping he'd take it and move the conversation elsewhere. If there was one thing guys always jumped on, it was when their sexuality was questioned.

His eyebrows shot up at her assumption, "you think I'm gay?" whether it was one of her diversion tactics or not, he was really interested in what fuelled that gross assumption.

"Come on, you're brawny and buff, people would think your over compensating," she elaborated, getting a disbelieving laugh from him. "But then again it may be your persona and you can't help how people pensive you. There's also the fact that you haven't, not once, checked me out. Which narrows it down to gay or inhuman," at least she'd managed to steer him clear off heavy topics and damn, she'd gotten a laugh from the guy. Not some little chuckle, but a laugh.

"Inhuman?" The girl's theories were beyond him, but he was curious to see where she was going with this.

"Well, any other guy in your situation would take advantage. You scratch my back, I scratch your itch in return. You haven't prepositioned me once, in the time we've been travelling. Heck, you didn't even try anything all liquored up. It's not in a man's nature to pass an opportunity."

He raised an eyebrow, "so you wanted me to proposition you, is that it?"

"Not in this life time," she breathed quickly, "not that you're not _attractive_ or anything. I mean the arms alone…point is, normal circumstances, a guy wouldn't be playing boy scout-with-a-vice when presented with an opportunity. Which means you are either a saint, and let's face it bud you're not, or gay, inhuman or you don't find me attractive, which just hurts."

He let out another laugh, seriously the words that came out of her mouth sometimes. "I'm not gay, and as for attractive, you're…"

"Not hard to look at?" she supplied easily, filling out the cliché that everyone spouted.

"Very hard _not_ to look at," he corrected, sneaking a glance from the corner of her eye to gauge her reaction which was a smile she tried hiding by looking out the window again.

Santana would admit that those words coming out of his mouth made her feel kind of nice. "Rearrangement of words, nice," she commended, placing her earphones back into her ear, not trusting herself not to slip into a flirt with him at the moment. Safe place to be was silence.

-~*+*~-:-**o**-:-~*+*~-

The coming days travelling were lighter and carefree laced with the most subtle of flirtation between them. It was dangerous ground to be on, but who said they both didn't like living dangerously. The only thing that didn't escalate things was the fact that they managed to get rooms with separate beds, and both being too stubborn to admit there was something there of a very physical nature. After admitting they found each other attractive had opened the way to the age old monster in the room: sexual tension; especially now that they understood each other to some degree.

Dom was never one to be attracted to just a pretty face; sure he looked at them in passing but was never drawn in. Understanding and common ground is what he found attractive, the slight similarities to himself the other person possessed; similarity that lead to understanding and no judgment. Santana as much as she was well, Santana, she had that quality and he couldn't help but be drawn in. It didn't hurt that she a beautiful woman. And noticing these qualities matched up with her pretty face, concluded with Dom being in trouble.

Santana was in a similar situation, drawn in by mystery. And Dominic Toretto was a mystery that she was unconsciously uncovering everyday they were together. No, she wasn't the 'good' girl addicted to 'bad' boy redemption. She wasn't good, and she wasn't looking to redeem anybody. Dominic was the textbook wrong side of the tracks kind of guy, but with some good attributes. His ability to help her even if he didn't know her or stand her was something to be respected. The fact that he usually insisted on paying even if she was suppose to be the one footing the bill showed some degree of chivalry. Not to mention he kept his hands and eyes off her, not really trying to get her into bed. He was a good guy in his own way, but had vices because highway robbery wasn't a good boy's extra-curricular activity.

"I'm going out for a drink, you coming?" Dom asked needing a drink since he wouldn't be driving till midday the next day.

She raised an eyebrow, "Change of habit, tired of being a recluse?" she couldn't help ask, because usually when they went to a bar, it was because she dragged him there.

"You coming or not?" he asked with a smile in his voice. Why couldn't she just say yes without the smart mouth?

She smiled, "Lemme get changed," grabbing a few clothes from her bag and disappearing into the bathroom.

To be honest he didn't see the change in attire as she posed against the bathroom door seal, awaiting words of approval from him with a sly smirk. She looked good as always so there was no need for complement on his part. He hadn't lied about her being hard not to look at even in the simples of clothing.

"You're such a guy, I changed my shirt," pushing off the door seal, to don her shoes. "Don't suffer brain damage trying to figure out what's different," sashaying out of the from in front of him, as he held the door open for her.

"Don't worry I wasn't," he assured closing the door behind him.

The area was rural mostly farms and greenery, so their only bar was small but loud with a rowdy crowd of farmers and youth mixed in with old timers just looking for a small drink after a long day in the sun farming. To prevent the cat whistling youth from getting anywhere with their ideas, Dom walked in close behind Santana placing a hand on her hip to give the illusion that she was taken. Other than stiffening slightly when his hand made first contact with her skin, she remained unaffected by the gesture letting him lead.

It took a while to find a vacant table but they eventually did toward the back next to the much calmer older crowd, Dom let her take the seat next to the wall to prevent passing drunks with a wandering eye to get their hands on her, while he took the seat facing the bar.

"So, can I ask something," playing with her soda bottle, she let her eyes stray to his face.

He sniggered, "I'm starting to see a pattern here. Do you always have questions accompanying drinks?"

"It's either, ask questions or dance, and we all know how that turned out the last time."

"Ask," he prompted. "But, conditions still apply."

"Personal information is off limits," she agreed easily, knowing he'd return the favor if she dared and she wasn't ready to divulge personal info. "What kind of women do you like?"

"A little personal don't you think?" Dom challenged, with a raised eyebrow.

She shrugged, "If you don't play for the same side, then it's not difficult to answer," leaning back into her chair, she eyed him daringly. "But, if you want to cop out with that weak excuse. It's fine."

"Why do you want to know?" he challenged right back, leaning against the table wanting to catch her in a trap of her own question.

She smirked, "Because, it must be something since you are surrounded by many pretty women, yet you don't bat an eyelash. So what do you prefer brunettes, blondes, black hair or red-heads?"

"That doesn't matter to me," he replied, even though he usually seemed drawn to brunettes more than the others.

She hummed, "What matters matter's then?" she inquired, taking a sip of her drink finally. "What's the first thing that attracts you to a woman?"

"Her car."

"And you're full of crap," she deadpanned. "But, I get it. You're stone walling me, and I'll back off."

"I don't know when I see her," He confessed. "Pretty face isn't everything, when she doesn't offer up something interesting when she opens her mouth."

"So, no air head street racer groupies."

"There for the adrenaline and money but understand nothing about cars? Not my type of thing."

"To catch your attention a girl's got to know her engines, that it?" she queried, which made sense.

He sighed, "Not necessarily, that condition applies to 'street racer groupies'," words said with a straight face, but cracked a smile when she laughed.

"A filter, don't I know it," she agreed through a laugh. "But I get it, there's a difference between admiration and attraction. Admiration comes at first sight because you like what you see and you step up to it. Attraction comes right after, or as you said when she opens her mouth, if you like what you hear then attraction, you don't like what you hear admiration fades and your back to square one." She understood his reasoning and it explained a lot about him. He wasn't a guy taken in at first sight, if he did then it was for one night, but if he continued on to get to know the girl and build up attraction for her then it was worth his time. He looked beyond the looks, but what he found attractive still remained a mystery.

"Uh-huh," he agreed not wanting to delve more into her interrogation.

She sniggered, "You're such a cop out."

"Fine what about you?" He countered.

"Pretty faces, they just get to me," she dead panned. "Then I find out they are airheads and that goes out the window. So honestly, I don't know what I'm attracted to I know it when I see it, simple as that."

It was hard to ignore how similar yet different they were at the same time. And for Dom, the most telling thing about the night was how many times his eyes strayed to her pouty lips as she spoke, meaning he was definitely attracted. For Santana it was the growing mystery that was Torreto keeping her in, that and the fact her eyes kept moving to his lips when he smiled, smirked, laughed or chuckled all signs that said she was in trouble.

-~*+*~-:-**o**-:-~*+*~-

There are many nice sights to wake up to, a sunrise, clear blue sky but that paled in comparison to Dom shirtless muscles glistening in the morning light. Now, she wasn't opposed to checking out something that was right in front of her eyes, but the rippling of muscles on his back were causing stirring she was sure would never occur again. Santana admitted that she was in trouble.

"Take a picture, it lasts longer," he told her, not even turning around to face her, rubbing off the sweat from his work out.

Caught, how embarrassing but she couldn't let him know that. So, nonchalantly as possible Santana sat back on her elbows with a smirk playing on her lips. "Careful Dom, I just might," a comment that had him turning to look back at her, with a bemused smile.

Always with the quick mouth; maybe it was just him, but she was becoming very hard not to look at especially when she was posed like that with that smirk on her face. "No-one likes a smart ass," he warned, disappearing into the bathroom.

"Well yes, except you," she shot back before he closed the door, flopping back down on the bed. Yup, she was in trouble especially in the heat of the summer reigning in on them. It meant, Dominic Torreto with few clothes and that was not good for her sanity at the moment. Especially after what her body went through seeing him shirtless and sweaty. Body wanted very much, mind was holding it back –thank god.

Dominic had never been one to hold back his urges, if he wanted alcohol he got it, if he wanted sex he had it, if he wanted to race he did. He didn't deny himself, to prevent wanting that most went through. So it was taking a lot to deny his body, hell his whole work out was to get his wayward thoughts in check. And it worked until she woke up and started watching him. When someone was watching him for longer than necessary he could always tell and her eyes were burning wholes in his back. His iron control was the only thing that didn't make him turn around and catch her in the act, instead just voicing his knowledge that he was aware of her eyes on him. But he had to face her eventually, and with that smirk and pose, his body was set on fire again. His body wanted her, but his mind was still under his control and that was why he was under cold sprays rather than hot water. There was no outward reaction to her yet, but it was bound to come soon.

He always knew the girl was trouble.

But for now, he would enjoy the cold sprays on his heated skin and think about the brunette later. They would finally be in Sao Paolo their last stop by nightfall before heading to Rio. If he was lucky they'd be a long stopover in Sao Paolo and driving for hours would be put on the back burner for a while.

**TBC**

**A/N: **I know I should update _The Fast and Furious: Insider_ but, I don't want to upload something I'm not completely happy with. As for this story, it's very short and only has two more chapters to go after this one and it's completely typed out only requiring editing. Hope you enjoy it all the same as always…

_Reviews would be lovely, helps me know what you think. Constructive Criticisms is welcomed, because it helps me improve. Flames __…__"__to each, his own__"__._


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Fast and the Furious.

**Rating: Very **Strong T

**Warning(s): **Non detailed love scene, barely over a T.

**A/N: **Thank you for reading, reviewing, adding this to your alerts and favorites. Second last chapter, here we go.

**|Four|**

With the heat came less clothing, at least on Santana's part, opting for short shorts instead of jeans and light weight vests, beads of sweat dotting her hairline and chest. Eyes as usual were hidden behind her Aviators sunglasses, earphones in her ears music blasting loud, enjoying the wind blowing through the car due to open windows. Dom forwent his over shirt remaining with his wife beater also battling the stifling heat and spotting beads of sweat on his chest and forehead, but thankful for the wind blowing into the car as it cruised down the road.

"You know if you weren't in this car, I'd be naked. It's so damn hot," Santana exclaimed, pulling out her earphones from her ears in frustration.

Once again, any other guy would crash the car at the statement, but that would be giving her the satisfaction she wanted. She wanted him to lose control and he'd be damned if he let her get her way. "Then get naked, you won't see me stopping you," he challenged.

"Why Dom, would you like to see me naked, because all you have to do is ask and you shall receive," she smiled not fazed by his comeback at all; in fact she was counting on it. Much better form of entertainment than her iPod, she could tell you that. If anything getting a rise out of Dom was the best part of her day.

"Somehow I doubt it's that easy, but keep your clothes on we don't need to get arrested for indecent exposure."

"Indecent would be us getting naked together," she contradicted, "but just to protect your delicate sensibilities I'll keep my clothes on, however, I have one condition." Pushing her Aviators off her nose and placing them on her head.

"I'm not letting you drive my car," he told her in a monotone, having a small clue about her condition. If there was something she did like clockwork, it was asking if she could drive, he was used to it now.

Rolling her eyes, she sighed. "Not that, we already know you're stingy with your car. What I want is that, when we get to Sao Paolo you let me spring for a room that has actual air conditioning and hot water. No arguments, no questions."

"And if I don't?" he challenged.

She smirked, "Then, I'm not opposed to losing clothes in this car and, as inhuman as you pretend to be, it's bound to be a distraction," her fingers beginning to playing with the hem of vest that already ended inches above her waist band. "What's it going to be?"

"Whatever you want, princess," his body had no problem with her stripping in his car, if anything it welcomed it. His mind though, the controller of all things, voiced strong opposition to a naked Santana because fully clothed Santana was already doing riot on his mind.

"I resent that, I'm not a princess, just averse to dying of heat stroke," she clarified. "But, thank you for seeing things my way, you're a real gentleman."

"No, just averse to going to jail because his passenger decides to flash the world," throwing her own argument back in her face, with a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

"Touché," she submitted, returning to her iPod and shading her eyes with Aviator sunglasses.

Sao Paolo city was a vastly difference from the little rural towns and mini cities they'd passed getting there, both in people and infrastructure, a modern city with sky scrapers lining the sky and not to mention the highway.

"So, Cidade Jardim Mall, the area of Oscar Freire Street, the Iguatemi São Paulo Mall and the department store Daslu that make up the "Luxury Quadrilateral" are out, unless you have at least a million to spend. Brooklin CBD immediately outside the LQ is a no-go too because it's only slightly cheaper and the money I got would probably last us, oh a night? So, I say we try outside Brooklin where the five stars aren't and we've got a decent room with air-conditioning and hot water," Santana narrated once they got inside the city, trying to remember her way around from her small pit stop in Brazil a few months ago.

He raised an eyebrow, "You know this how?"

"I know a lot of things about a lot of things, let's just leave it at that," She smiled, liking to keep a little mystery about herself from him. It was bad enough he could read her and know when she was bluffing, she didn't need him knowing why she knew what she knew. "Area next to the favelas is out of the question."

"Why?" He knew why, but asked anyway.

"Highest crime rate in the city is in the favelas; basically everyone and their mother have a .45 caliber at least. Still want to ask me why?"

He didn't ask anymore, follow her directions round the city ending up at a three star hotel that served up all her demands a la carte. Rates were reasonable with a relatively good view of the sea; the precious hot water she'd wanted was available by an instant shower and air conditioning, which meant she would probably stop complaining for a while about the heat or threaten getting into her birthday suit, all in all good for his sanity.

"Feel like going out tonight?" She asked, plopping down on the bed enjoying the softness of the bed and the lack of stale air in the room. Three star? Screw it, she was in heaven.

Dom looked down at her, "Are you asking me out on a date?" before plopping down on his side of the bed.

"No, I'm asking if you wanna go out for a drink," she corrected, "whether you see it as a date is up to you," her tone playful, as the smirk on her lips.

"Drinks usually come with questions, I'll pass."

Balancing on her elbow, she looked down on him. "You think I won't ask questions in this room? Please, you don't know me at all."

"You know heat is supposed to make people shut up, but you, it has the opposite effect you just keep on going."

She smirked, her eyes falling to his lips before returning to his eyes. "You'll be surprised just how much I keep going," she said, her tone in a lower octave and a wink for emphasis.

Just like her own, his eyes strayed to her lips before returning to her eyes. They were inches apart and treading in dangerous waters with their words, or at least her assumption and all it took was closing the distance between them to seal their fate. But before his body reacted his mind caught up, she smiled and rolled away. "I need a shower."

As much as she was dying for a hot shower, dear heavens she needed a cold one. Needed one to cool her heated skin and shock her out of her train of thought. Proximity with them was becoming a problem, and it would have been okay if she was the only one with…_urges _toward him, because she'd seen his eyes trained on her lips with intent which led to her fleeing into the bathroom. If things were one sided they never lead anywhere that was just fact, but now that you factored him as a willing participant all hell was about to break loose. Maybe it was a bad –scratch that, horrible –idea to get one bed instead of two, yeah major screw up there. But what was done was done, and she would have to deal with the consequences of her actions. In her haste to escape she'd forgotten her toiletries in the other room as well as a change of clothes and soap she'd bought on the way to the hotel. Gathering all her nerve and devil may care attitude she wrapped a towel that barely passed her ass and sauntered back in to the room. "Seen the soap?" stopping in front of Dom, who was on the floor doing sit ups.

Was he just imagining it, or was Santana trying to seduce him? It was the only way he could explain the last few days of careless flirting and innuendo. Not to mention her current state. The girl he'd help by offering a ride who trusted him as far as she could throw him was now standing before him in a towel barely covering her body ending dangerously mid her thighs, water still drizzling her skin and hair hanging in thick tendrils sticking to her shoulders. Never failing eyebrow raised in sass… was she serious? "I thought three star hotels had soap in the bathroom," he commented, getting onto his feet.

"Yea, well I like _my _soap," she explained, trying her best not to ogle him too much, because come on bulging muscles spotting the slightest beads of sweat.

He chuckled, "and you wonder why I call you princess," moving their bags around looking for the shopping bags.

"Hey, I like what I like, Toretto, it isn't a crime," snatching the bag that was dangling from his finger. "I'm not a princess," spying him through hooded eyelashes, while searching their purchase for her soap. Finally finding what she was looking for, she handed back the bag with a bright smile, "Thank you."

For someone who was taking a hot shower, her skin felt cold to the touch. "Wasn't part of the reason of getting this room in this specific hotel, hot water? You're skin's cold," latching on to her hand to confirm it.

"That happens when you use cold water," trying to pry her hand from his grasp to escape, but he wasn't letting go instead pulling her back and closer than before.

He raised an eyebrow, "and why were you using cold instead of hot?" clearly amused.

"You want an illustration?" No way was she letting him get to her, stepping up closer still. She was crossing lines and constraints she promised herself she wouldn't cross minutes ago. But it was right there for her to take and all she could think was why not?

Her lips were now slightly parted inviting him for a taste while her eyes searched his face. All types of lines were being crossed with too little clothes in the equation. He wasn't denying it anymore, he wanted her and at the moment it was on that bed or the closest wall. Whatever was fuelling him on was a confusing mesh of attraction and lust which was becoming a great distraction. Sex deprivation wasn't something he was used to dealing with, that was why not taking what he wanted right now was messing with him so much. And chances were if he didn't take care of his problem, it would escalate to more of a distraction and he couldn't have that –wouldn't have that. "Sure you want to go there?" he challenged, stepping closer hoping to intimidate her into backing down, before they went any further. But like everything in his life, he was attracted to one of the most stubborn women he'd ever met in his life who would rather drop dead than be intimidated.

"Are you?" she challenged right back with an eyebrow raised, taking a stepping closer leaving only a sliver of space between them, tilting her head slightly to look him in the eye, now that he was towering over her.

Who moved first they didn't know and despite the buildup it wasn't rushed or hungry in nature when their lips finally met. His lips moved over hers ever so slowly, hers beneath his opened invitingly. Even with the invitation, he didn't rush swiping her lower lip with his tongue tasting the raspberry flavor that tainted her lips from the soda she had drank earlier. When their tongues finally met for a slow tangle, her hand travelled up his chiseled chest to his nape to pull him closer, while his hand found her hip pulling her flush against him; soft curves fitting snugly against hard muscles, hands unable to stop exploring. She couldn't stop touching him, enjoying the feel of smooth skin covering hard muscle underneath her fingertips.

It felt wonderful feeling the rippling of his abs and back reacting to her touch, as he laid sensuous, pulsating kisses down her neck making her breath come out in gasps. Callous finger tips grazing against soft skin, making her arch against him and moan into his ear completely under the ministrations. His lips on her shoulders, throat, jaw and the feel of his arms around her made her weak. Even her hands were incapable of stopping themselves form going to his waistband, pulling him with her as she backed toward the bed.

But even if he wanted it, he still needed confirmation that she was really on board with what they were about to do. Once they took it there, they couldn't go back. "Last chance to back out," he warned her, not that he wouldn't stop if she asked him further down the line, it was just a last ditch effort to get their senses before it got too far.

Santana agreed, she could back out, all she had to do was tell him to stop and he'd put the brakes on everything. However, she was too turned on and too far gone to walk away. She wanted him, every part of her body wanted him and no cold shower could make her forget his mouth or touch. Without the slightest hesitation or breaking eye contact she closed the slight gap that had opened up between them and kissed him gently, leaving her lips there until he responded just in kind. If she was going to have her way with him, she was taking her time –In her opinion, rushed led to regret. Her hands was busy ridding him of his pants, while he kissed her nice and slow, languorous like he was savoring every touch of her tongue and every taste of her lips.

It wasn't a rushed tangled of sweaty limbs, in the sweltering Brazil heat. It was lingering kisses and touches, moans and whispered words, secretive and slow with a pace one would almost call lazy. Completions after what seemed like hours weren't screamed obnoxiously for the world to hear, but breathed like a secret into each other's ears, sweat clinging to their skin as their hearts tried to calm down from its racing pace.

**TBC**

**A/N**: I hope this chapter didn't feel too rushed, but this is a fast paced story and was my fast attempt. For those also following **The Fast and Furious: Insider **it was finally already updated so check it out. Anyway, as always…

_Reviews would be lovely, helps me know what you think. Constructive Criticisms is welcomed, because it helps me improve. Flames __…__"__to each, his own__"__._


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Fast and the Furious.

**Rating: **Strong T

**Warning(s): **The ending might be unsatisfying.

**A/N: **We have come to the end of _**Fast Five: The Prelude**_. The first story I have ever completed here. Thank you again for reading, reviewing, and adding this to your alerts and favorites. There is a possibility for a sequel, but that will happen after I finish _**The Fast and Furious: Insider**_ for the reader who asked. Hope you enjoy it. Here we go…

**|Five|**

Did Santana feel regret for what they did last night? No. Guilt, she really didn't know about that one, it was too complicated to assess at the moment. She wasn't a virgin, but she wasn't easy either. Counting Dom, her sexual partners equaled two and that was including her dead husband. Remaining a virgin until marriage wasn't something she'd strived to be, but she also wasn't going give it up to just anyone. Boys lied, Men were even bigger liars so no she wasn't all hopped up to bang them. Adriane had been different in the sense that he saw her differently, understood her differently and wasn't hawing something wicked about her not giving it up. Even now, as much as the memory was faded, she could picture those brilliant sea-green eyes looking at her with more than desire. She still thought about his laughs, smiles, touches and kisses, because she had believed no other man could come close. After his death, she'd been content on being alone, not even thinking about another guy, well, until Dominic Torreto.

She couldn't even begin to describe the feelings she got from him. Was she attracted? Yes, enough to sleep with him. Did she want something more? To be honest, they weren't ready and she was fighting the urge to bolt every second. No, not because she hated it, but because it was complicated and confusing. She hated confusion.

The first thing he saw when his eyes fluttered open was her slouching figure silhouetted by the morning sun, clearly in deep thought. His first assumption would be that she regretted what happened and didn't know what to do next. It had surprised him that she was married because she came off as the running type. Once she got over her paranoia, it came shinning through that commitment terrified her and she'd run from husband. But her implication when they were on the road the day after the revelation clued him in to the situation. Maybe the reason they'd both understood each other, was that they'd both lost someone they loved and were special to them. The chain hanging around her neck with rings dangling served the same purpose as the cross hanging around his neck. Life was going on, and they were going on with it, but they could never forget and were trying to hold on to the fading memories. Letty had always been it for him, the only woman to _really _attract him, at least until the brunette wallowing in guilt and regret on the balcony.

He couldn't sit and say that he wanted something, when he wasn't even clear on the situation. Hell, in a few days Vince or Brian would call; he'd get into the car alone and travel to Rio. The possibility of seeing her again after that, slim to none. Too help him figure out an appropriate course of action he took a shower and brushed his teeth the best approach coming to him when he pulled on a clean pair of jeans and padded over to her, leaning on the opposite side of the balcony doorway looking at her.

"Let me guess 'wanna talk about it'?" she broke the silence, turning to face him with an eyebrow already raised in challenge.

Dom shrugged, "you tell me?" leaving it open for her to answer.

"I don't regret it," She assured him, crossing her arms over her chest. "And if it happened again I wouldn't be opposed to it," he looked skeptical so she went on. "We could pretend and say it was a mistake, but it wasn't. I liked it; I wanted it and no regrets. Do I want a relationship? I'm so messed up right now, and you are too."

There it was her ability to understand where his head was at, "really?"

"We are still holding on, and maybe someday we won't but for now, things will probably be casual," She told him, sure of her statement. "I think we should just do what we do, live our lives one day at a time and if it ends tomorrow, it ends tomorrow."

He looked at her critically looking for a lie, "I can't offer anything."

"I don't expect you to give me something, I'm not going to give either," she confirmed.

He sighed, even if he wasn't offering anything more than whatever they were at the moment, he still had the urge to touch and kiss her, especially when her bottom lip was stuck between her teeth making her look… inviting. It was unconscious the step he took toward her, the hand that cupped her neck and thumb caressing her jaw, while his eyes remained on hers. He couldn't pretend there was no attraction, or that if they stay together for a while he would keep his hands to himself. So he stole another taste of her mouth with his own, savoring the feel of her tongue on his and lips moving under his own as he kissed her thoroughly. Only pulling away when he was sure she was breathless.

Her pouty lips were swollen from the assault, and her hand remained on his neck while she tried to catch her stolen breath. "Now, I wouldn't be oppose to that," once again biting her lower lip as she pulled him back into the room, "or a shower," the intent of having her way with him in her eyes.

Surprising her as he easily picked her off the ground forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist and hold him close. "Let's try a hot one this time," he smirked, earning kisses down his neck for his suggestion while he carried her into the bathroom.

-~*+*~-:-**o**-:-~*+*~-

Like Santana had told him, she didn't ask for anything. They went on the way they always went on, sometimes silences, sometimes mild banter, sometimes subtle conversation on their personal lives but adding sex and kisses into the mix. When he stopped denying he wanted her and fully accepted it, things were surprisingly easier. Maybe not fighting it, made the need lessen and become controllable.

Santana liked where they were at the moment. No expectation or hopes for more on either of them, fun, good sex, sometimes meaningful and therapeutic talks and much of what they were doing before. The Sao Paolo street racing scene was thriving especially with how many rich, bored kids were around looking for excitement and entertainment only adrenaline could provide. The cockier and mouthy they were the harder they fell and money poured in. Girls looked and tried their hand at getting at him, but all he spared them was a dismissive smile or passing glance and ended up in bed next to her.

Before he even touched her, she smelled the musky scent of sweat from his morning workout that had become routine. Yes, it was a bit tangy but the mere thought of how that sweat looked on his body had her liking it somewhat. His calloused hand on her waist always sent delicious chills up her spine, even before he lay a trail kisses across her shoulder, on her nape and on her tattoo between her shoulder blades which he seemed to love. "Morning to you too," she moaned, enjoying the feel of his mouth on her skin and the graze of calloused fingertips across her belly, before his arm pulled her back flush against him. "You're especially frisky this morning?"

"Complaining?" he asked, turning her around to face him, eyebrow raised in challenge.

She chuckled, wrapping arms around his neck and placing a teasing kiss on his lips. "Not complaining," the feel of him against her, already had her going. Honestly, she'd forgotten how satisfying good sex was and when Dom was around wanting her, with that look in his eyes she couldn't resist getting that satisfaction it provided. And as always, like she weighed nothing, he lifted her onto the bathroom counter fingers digging into her chocolate locks.

-~*+*~-:-**o**-:-~*+*~-

After a rather enjoyable and pleasure filled morning, they went their separate ways. Dom going into a garage in town to service his car after convincing the owner to let him use equipment at a fee of course, as well as check his message for any news from Brian or Vince. Santana was running a personal errand which Dom only knew as her shopping again, and for the record she didn't shop that much, but a girl needed a change of clothes from time to time even after they'd both spent a fortune at the hotel to get their clothes cleaned. The real reason was she needed to phone home, she'd missed her monthly call to Victoria two weeks ago and the woman wouldn't be all that happy with her silence. But it needed to be done.

"_Victoria Carreon,_" the blonde's familiar drawl came through the receiver, when the connect call went through.

"Hey Vicky," she greeted, knowing an onslaught was coming.

All there was on the other end was silence, or what she liked to call the calm before the storm. And boy was there a storm, "_I asked you to call every couple of days, you say it's impossible. I then I negotiate to once a week, you say you'll try. I settle for every month and you can't pick up a damn phone. Hell better have broken lose, San or I'm going to find a way to reach through this phone and strangle you._"

"Catch you at a bad time?" Santana quipped knowing it was not the time.

"_Not the time to lay the banter on San, where the hell have you been?"_ Victoria demanded, not at all amused by her attempt at humor.

"I know, I deserve a swift kick in the ass for going MIA, but things have been busy," Santana explained, not lying but not divulging the truth either. "As for where I've been, Argentina, Venezuela… you know the works."

"_Oh so they don't have payphones? Cut the crap Contreras, and tell me what you've gotten yourself into._"

"You make it sound so –"

"_You? Sweetie, trouble follows you around like a bad smell, and that is when you don't go looking for it like a thrill junkie._"

"No trouble, promise. I've just been trying to get cash to get back. Soon as I gather enough funds I'll be on the way back so you can kick my ass in person."

"_Very funny, but I don't think so,_" the blonde reined on her parade. "_The only way to get your butt back home and off your personal vendetta quest, is dragging you back here kicking and screaming. Lucky for you, I have a few vacation days coming up and my destination … Brazil. Where are you?"_

She could have argued, but it would be like banging her head on a wall. "Sao Paulo at the moment, but I might be moving on to Rio soon and since you're being mother hen-ish could you bring my phone too."

"_Move or even think of leaving the country before I get there San, I'll be after you like a pit bull,_" Victoria warned. "_I, hopefully, will be there by the end of the week._"

"Threats are unneeded Nic, I'll be here when you get here," rolling her eyes at her sister's dramatics, giving her particulars for the hotel they were staying at incase the blonde needed to call her before then. Chances were that Dom would have moved on to Rio before then, because explaining why the brawny street racer/thief/bed partner was there would be exhausting.

-~*+*~-:-**o**-:-~*+*~-

Dominic wasn't the least bit surprised by the voicemail from Vince saying they had a job they needed him on. He was still checking over the car and night travel would be unadvisable to anyone, which left him with no option but to stay in Sao Paulo overnight and leave first thing. Telling Santana was easy, he guessed because she wasn't the typical female, but her reaction would still be unknown especially when she was hell bent on going out tonight and dragging him along. Not only that, her transport out of Sao Paolo was another problem. Even if the best thing would have been taking her along, he couldn't in good authority say she would be safe with whatever job they were going to do. The only consolation was that Sao Paolo was a major city and had an airport just like Rio and if she was to leave the country she wouldn't have any problems.

"I hope you're ready to carry me home, because I just might get wasted tonight," was her greeting when she came through the door brandishing a few shopping bags. He chuckled, but it was rather forced easily catching her attention diming her smile slightly. "Okay, hit me with the bad news. What's up?"

"I need to leave for Rio," He stated simply, not beating about the bush.

She furrowed her eyebrow, "So, no going out? That sucks." There was a dull twinge somewhere in her heart at the news, but she didn't dwell on it too much. The fact that he just said it without coaxing her into it, told her that he'd hoped she'd understand and remember their MOU. "When do you leave, tonight?"

"Tomorrow morning," he replied, watching her for a reaction. But this was Santana, her reaction were carefully measured always unless he was looking into her eyes.

She nodded, "so I guess the reason you're telling me now instead of the morning, it's because you can't take me along, huh?"

"I just want to know –"

"–If I have a place to go? You do realize I was capable of taking care of myself long before I met you, right?" she teased, her smile returning with the same brightness she had before he broke the news. Sauntering over to him, she straddled him easily maintaining eye contact. "Let's just enjoy the time we have left; No regrets." Keeping her eyes open with emotion, knowing he could read her much better than he would have liked.

It was there hanging in the air, left unsaid. But it was safe not trying to understand it or analyze it. She was right, enjoy the here and now and dealing with tomorrow when tomorrow came –No regrets. Tracing hands up her thighs, he relented to her way of thinking just enjoying the feel of her fingers caressing his face.

"Which reminds me about my shopping," she smirked slyly, intention shining in her eyes. "Prepare to be amazed, Dominic, I'm about to blow your mind," getting off him, just as he was enjoying the feel of her on his lap.

"Its legal right?" he called out to her, just before she disappeared into the bathroom.

She stopped momentarily, facing him with a wicked smile, "depends on your view of legal," adding a wink for emphasis, before disappearing inside the bathroom.

-~*+*~-:-**o**-:-~*+*~-

Whatever she had planned, had Santana enclosed in the bathroom for a while giving him time to pack up his duffle bag and change out of his wife beater and jean into a pair of lightweight sweats, foregoing a shirt, his cross safe in his duffle bag. As for the air conditioner, he left it off leaving all the windows open and letting the breeze in.

At the sound of the bathroom door clicking open, he turned around awaiting his apparent surprise or according to her, to 'get his mind blown'. The first thing he noted when she stepped out, were her bare feet and long tanned legs. Black lacy boy shorts hanging low on her hips doing nothing to hide the sensuous curve of her hip, curving into a small waist. Matching lacy bra was held up by thick straps, enhancing already generous cleavage, thick brunette locks mussed hanging down one shoulder and teeth biting her bottom lip. "So, Dom, has your mind been blown?" she asked, eyes never leaving his as he walked toward her.

"You know I have to wake up at dawn," he told her, hand finding the curve of her hip while his eyes traced her face before being completely drawn in by her lips.

She smirked, "Well, it's up to you," hands moving up his chest to cup his neck, stepping closer. "But, there is offer, question is, are you going to take it?"

His answer was simple, pushing her against the door sill, bracing himself with a forearm above her head. Lips pressed to her hair, temple down to her ear. "Then let's make it worth it," he told her, continuing to place feather light kiss in a trail toward her mouth.

Foreplay wasn't his strong suit and neither was taking his time and just kissing the girl. In his opinion if you want it, go get it. Yes, he indulged in it sometimes but not always. However, Santana was an exception because kissing her was an addiction and her body begged to be explored.

Santana admittedly liked everything about sex with Dom. His hands on her body, his mouth on her skin, the weight of his body on hers, the play of muscle under her fingers each time he moved, the kisses he laid on her shoulders and neck every now and then, the change of pace to keep her hanging on the edge and dragging it along for some time. And most importantly, she loved the way he said her name, breathing it deep and low in her ear. Too bad it was probably the last time, especially when she was getting accustomed to it on daily basis.

-~*+*~-:-**o**-:-~*+*~-

With all the moving around, Santana was easily and grudgingly woken before she was good and ready to, but what a sight to wake up to –Dom shirtless with jeans hanging low on his hips. "You know I just might miss waking up to this every morning," she informed him, tone groggy from sleep.

He laughed, pulling a black t-shirt on, "You're a voyeur now?" turning to face her with a raised eyebrow in question.

"Only if I haven't seen it in all its bare glory before," she quipped, propping herself on a hand. "Got everything?"

He smiled, "Almost."

Running a hand through her messy locks, she pulled the sheet around her. "Too bad, I was hoping for round four." Okay, fine round four would probably have her walking funny for days, but her tease was worth the slightly shocked look on his face. She wasn't going to dwell on him leaving; if she did she would be delving into things she wasn't ready to face. Besides, she had a very pissed off sister coming in about two days to deal with than the something that was happening between her and Dom –who was leaving by the way.

After changing into shorts, tank top and slippers she walked him over to his car –no conversation between them. There wasn't really anything to be said, he was leaving and she was staying. Dom however, was still concerned about her next move and leaving her in Sao Paolo. Even if she wasn't looking for it, trouble seemed to find her.

"Sure about your next move?" Dom asked once again.

She rolled her eyes, "Seriously, I got it figured out. Why does everyone seem to think that I'm a trouble magnet?"

"So, I'm not the only one who sees that?"

"A few weeks with me and you're a comedian," there was no absolute way of saying goodbye, and so far she was feeling things she wasn't suppose to feel at saying goodbye. "Which reminds me…" taking out a card and handing it over to him, "My IOU card. If you ever need my help, or are in New York give me a call."

"I didn't help you for an IOU," Dom informed her, not taking the card.

She smiled, "I know, but one good turn deserves another," offering him the card again, but he stubbornly refused, forcing her to slip the card into the breast pocket of his over-shirt. "Humor me," she coaxed gently, with a small quirk of her lips. Even if she wanted to deny it, she'd miss having him around, and not only because he was good to look at.

"Fine," he agreed, unable to say no when she was touching him so gently, and speaking so honestly. As much as he wanted to fight it or deny it he cared about her and then something he couldn't quite name yet. But that something would remain unexplored now that he was leaving.

"Well, I'm not really a hugger so…" she began, holding out a hand for him to shake. She really wasn't a hugger, it always felt awkward or people looked at her awkwardly after one so she stopped giving them. From her they just always seemed… forced. Luckily for her, Dom could read her pretty well and accepted the gesture, his larger hand engulfing hers easily. "I'll see you, when I see you or when you get into trouble and finally need my help," she winked, turn to walk away but he didn't let go pulling her back to him.

Now she'd received some pretty mind blowing kisses from Dom, but the one he laid on her when she crashed against his chest, had to be one of the best yet. Seriously, the things the guy could do with his mouth. The only way she was still standing was because he was still holding her when he broke the kiss. "Saving the best for last?" she asked breathless, licking her lips before looking up at him.

"Something like that," he replied, caressing her cheek. Fishing in his pocket for something, he pulled out a thin chain with a small silver angel hanging from it and placed it in the hand he still clasped. "Don't say I never gave you anything, Princess."

-~*+*~-:-**o**-:-~*+*~-

"So what do you want to do tonight?" Victoria asked, entering the exclusive café by the beach side in the high end part of Rio. After arriving and finishing her business in Sao Paolo, she'd coerced Santana to agree to extend their vacation toward Rio.

Santana shrugged, "This is your vacation. It's up to you," rolling her eyes at a high roller, who was looking a little too much to be a passing glance. If she had to guess, the guy had already stripped her naked in his head.

"Well, we haven't checked out the racing scene in Rio yet," Victoria suggested.

Santana laughed, "I don't think it's reassuring that the majority share holder of a Corp goes around street racing. What would the board members think?"

"That I'm on vacation and it's none of their business if they want to keep enjoying the perks of being a high ranking executive." Victoria answered easily not even waiting a beat. "Besides, I haven't been laid in 3 months, San, 3 frigging months. I'm _this _close to losing my mind."

"What about Luke? Thought he was supposed to be taking care of the physical?"

Victoria sighed, thinking of her… whatever the hell he was. "He's off chasing some criminal and you know how he gets when he's chasing someone."

"And here I thought your stint with the raging bull was over," She had nothing against Luke Hobbs but for her sister he was the wrong fit. As much as the woman preached that she was emotional stilted, Hobbs was just beyond help in the department. If there was someone completely emotionally unavailable it was the DSS agent and his relationship or affair or whatever he had with Victoria, Santana wasn't a big fan of.

Victoria rolled her eyes knowing where this was going before it went there, "Look, I haven't torn into you about your summer fling with god knows who, so let's leave the lecture out can we?"

"Summer fling?" Santana asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You're smiling more and still have an after sex glow that's visible from a mile away sweetheart. You got good and laid by someone, and you don't see me judging you."

"Hey, I'm not judging you. You can sleep with who you want you're a big girl, doesn't mean I have to like him."

Victoria didn't want to argue with Santana when she'd just gotten her back not a week ago. "So, racing good for tonight's festivities?"

"We don't have a car," Santana reminded her. To race they needed a car that could race, not the company car they were strolling in currently.

Victoria smirked, "Like it's a problem to get one by tonight," linking her arm through the brunette. "Old dirty bastard at six o'clock just mind raped you six times over."

"Yea think?"

**The End**

**A/N: yup, I totally left it hanging. But, I will revisit this like I said, once the other story is done. Once again…**

_Reviews would be lovely, helps me know what you think. Constructive Criticisms is welcomed, because it helps me improve. Flames __…__"__to each, his own__"__._


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